Wrath of a Weasley
by TheXtraWeasley
Summary: Following the events of Harry and Ron stealing Mr Weasley's car and facing the consequences when they go back to the Burrow for Christmas break. WARNING contains SPANKING/CP of Pre-teen boys. Don't like? Don't read! It really is that simple.
1. Chapter 1 The invitation

_— STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —_

 _— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED —"_

 _— ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME_ _!_

Oh yes, Ronald Weasley was certainly in a great deal of trouble. His Father, Arthur Weasley, had sent an owl about two months or so after Molly's howler had reached Hogwarts. The letter had explained - in a little too much detail for Ron's liking- how he was going to be punished when he got home for the Christmas Holidays.

"I won't sit down for weeks…" Ron mumbled, tucking his Father's letter into his robes and glaring into the bowl of jam roly poly and custard that he'd been enjoying that evening-at least until Errol smashed into a bowl of profiteroles in front of him, a crisp white letter enclosed in his beak.

"Well you can't say that you don't deserve it. Stealing a car of all things." Hermione sighed, picking out a golden tart with glossy red jam smeared across the top.

"Bloody hell Hermione." Ron snapped, ears turning pink. "I've heard it from Snape, McGonagall, Mum _and_ Dad. I don't need a lecture from you as well!" he huffed. "Anyway…have you seen Harry? I need to talk to him."

"No. Though I would have thought he'd have joined us for dinner." The young girl answered, her bushy brows coming together in a frown. "Maybe he's in the common room? With everyone muttering about him all the time…well I suppose he'd rather be alone." she deduced.

Harry was certainly going through a lot that term. A great many students seemed to think _he_ was the heir of Slytherin due to the fact he'd supposedly set a Snake on a Hufflepuff boy (Justin Finch-Fletchly) and they were _convinced_ he had been plotting the attacks against the currently petrified muggle-borns. Poor Harry hadn't even known what a _Parselmouth_ was up until a couple of weeks ago, or that being able to converse with snakes just wasn't a normal thing to do-even in the Wizarding world. So many thoughts and emotions had been warring inside him. He didn't know who he was any more, why he was always so different from any other student at Hogwarts. It had been bad enough being the famed _boy who lived_ for his entire first year at school (Harry had _hated_ the attention), but he'd rather be known as the boy who lived than _the heir of Slytherin_.

"Guess you're right." Ron sighed. Heir of Slytherin indeed. He knew better. The young Weasley sent a glare over to the Slytherin table where he caught Draco Malfoy muttering something incoherent to his cronies. Oh yes, he knew better. "How's that polyjuice coming along?" he asked, lowering his voice as he turned back to face his friend.

"Everything should be in place once we get back after Christmas." Hermione answered, her eyes twinkling. "I think I've finally perfected the Knott grass to powdered Bicorn-horn ratio. It only took two attempts, mind." she beamed, obviously very proud of herself.

"The…what to what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes up to the enchanted Hogwarts ceiling and released a frustrated breath. "Never mind, Ronald."

"There he is!"

"-Ickle Ronniekins enjoying his last meal _sitting down_ , I detect."

"-Oh I concur George."

Ron looked over his shoulder, his mood worsening when he saw his twin brothers make their way towards him, large grins plastered on their identical freckled faces. Brilliant. Just what he needed.

"Sod off you two."

"Not very friendly is he, Fred?" George asked, seating himself beside Ron despite the younger boy's chagrin.

"Quite disrespectful I'd say, George." Fred agreed, putting himself on the other side of Ron, the twins sandwiching their younger brother between them so there was going to be no chance of escape.

"Christmas is a time for family, dearest brother." George smiled.

"And we thought, quite brilliantly I might add, that a bit of old Christmas carolling might cheer you up." Fred smirked.

Ron didn't like where this was going at all.

"Since when do you care about Dad's stupid Muggle traditions?" he asked, not looking at either of them and instead right down at his bowl of pudding -which -judging by the lack of rising steam, had gone cold by now.

"Since we found the perfect song to cheer you up, Ronniekins. Ready Fred?"

"Ready George."

Both young men cleared their throats in unison, and to Ron's horror, they began to sing (if you could even call it singing that was).

 _"Oh, Dad's temper can sure be frightful."_

 _"-But the sight, is so delightful."_

 _"-And we know how this will go,"_

 _"-Ron's bum will glow, it will glow, it will glow!"_

 _"- and Dad doesn't show signs of stopping,"_

 _"-as Ron's bottom gets a popping."_

 _"-Just look at Dad's belt go,"_

 _"-his bum's aglow, its aglow, its agloooowwwwww!"_

Ron's face burned scarlet with mortification and the twins had scampered off in gales of laughter with the younger Weasley chasing after them, his bowl of pudding aimed directly for their heads.

"GITS!" He screamed as the twins disappeared behind a corridor and seemed to vanish into thin air. Oh how he _loathed_ his brothers sometimes. As the boy started making his way back to the Great Hall, an overwhelming feeling of dread settled like a lead ball in his gut as he re-lived those humiliating lyrics. They weren't wrong. He knew he could expect to get a good whipping from his Father's belt once he got home. He'd never gotten his Father's belt for any of his previous transgressions but he'd heard directly from Charlie and Bill just how excruciating it was when your bottom got lined with red, burning welts. Arthur was a very patient and lenient man, that was true. He only ever lost his temper/cool when one of his little Weasel kits put themselves in danger-each kit knew that when their Father lost his temper they were in _big_ trouble.

It had been the same when Arthur caught Fred and George trying to make an Unbreakable vow with him, he'd been just five years old and terrified when he heard the sounds of his Father's slipper crashing down on both little identical bottoms in the other room. It was the first time he'd ever seen their Father lose his temper, (though he had of course calmed himself down before administering punishment).

It had been the same when Charlie, his dragon-mad brother, had climbed into a pen of Welsh Greens four years ago during a family outing. Luckily, Arthur had been able to immobilize the Dragons and get Charlie out unscathed. Charlie did _not_ sit comfortably for a few days after that incident.

Well as miserable as Ron's situation was…at least he could cling to the fact that he wouldn't be alone. Which reminded him, he needed to find Harry. The young Weasley retreated to the great Hall at a quicker pace, avoiding Hermione's eye as he set down his untouched bowl of pudding-and left without a word. He walked straight to the common room and pulled his Father's letter from the depths of his pocket.

 _Dearest Ron,_

 _I hope you're well son, and I hope you've been behaving yourself. I haven't forgotten about the unfortunate incident with the car and I think you and I need to have a little talk about it when you come home for Christmas. I'm sorry Ron, but I will not lose you or Harry, you need to understand the consequences of your actions, the both of you. Which reminds me, I'd like you to inform Harry that he is welcome to spend Christmas with us at home this year and yes, I think you know what that means, Ronald. Harry may not be my son but he was in my care, and my responsibility when the two of you took off like you did. I'll explain everything in a little more detail when we can speak in person._

 _I look forward to seeing you both,_

 _Love Dad x_

How was he going to explain to Harry that his Father had practically _invited_ the boy to their home for a good thrashing? Blood pounding in his ears, Ron made his way through the portrait of the Fat lady and did indeed find Harry in the common room. "Hiya Harry." he paused, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "I uh, I need to tell you something."

Harry looked from the enthral of the roaring fire and over to his friend as he came through the portrait, a small smile on his narrow face. "What is it?"

"Well…."

It took Harry a whole five minutes to read through Arthur Weasley's letter and understand what this meant for him. Guilt crashed over him in waves as he read the words ' _I will not lose you, or Harry.'_ No one had ever really cared for him and made him feel like family like the Weasleys had that summer. He felt like such an arse to have thrown their kindness back in their faces like he had. The thought of (as Ron put it when he'd finished reading) getting whipped with a belt did not sound at all pleasant. Oh…but how could he pass up an opportunity to spend Christmas day with his best friend and his family? Molly would make the most magnificent Christmas dinner he'd ever seen. Fred and George would sing themselves hoarse with silly carols, wizarding and muggle alike. He'd get to pull Christmas crackers wrapped in shiny, glittering paper with his best friend, and wear silly paper crowns of all colours. His heart began to swell with warmth at the very thought of it.

 _Christmas with the Weasleys._ How could anyone possibly pass up such an opportunity?

"So…uh…what do you think?" Ron asked a little awkwardly, not looking at Harry as he ran his finger idly across the golden tassels tying back the deep maroon Gryffindor curtains. He'd expected Harry to crumple up the letter, throw it into the fire and go into a rage about being smacked by someone who wasn't even his parent. He almost toppled over in surprise when Harry turned to him and said,

"I think it sounds brilliant!" It had been the first time he'd really smiled in weeks.

Ron stared at the bespectacled boy as though he'd gone mad.

"What?"

"It's brilliant Ron, completely brilliant!" Harry beamed.

"Brilliant? What? …Did you read it properly? We're going to get _thrashed!_ " Ron squeaked in disbelief. What was so brilliant about that?!

"Well…no, not that part." Harry decided, "But spending Christmas at your house…I mean, it's just…it's brilliant!"

"Brilliant." Ron muttered, shaking his head. "You won't think it's so bloody brilliant when you can't sit down on Christmas Day." he tried to reason with his best mate, but he wasn't listening, he was staring down at the letter again, as if needing confirmation that his invite to a Weasley Christmas was real. Maybe if he had spent every Christmas day of his life locked in a cupboard, getting the mere scraps of Christmas turkey and a couple of pigs in blankets on a small plate, he would have understood the absolute delight on Harry's face.

"I better go pack!" Harry said quickly, the twelve year old jumping to his feet and racing up to the Dormitory.

"...er, right." Ron did not follow with nearly as much enthusiasm, more the enthusiasm of a dead man walking.

The morning they were set to leave for the Hogwarts express, Harry was feeling a mixture of emotions. Exhilaration over spending Christmas with a loving family, guilt about facing up to Molly, Arthur and what he'd done, anxiety about his upcoming punishment and sorrow for his friend who had been acting as though he were a prisoner about to face a chopping block all morning. It was hard to settle his mind and heart on just one emotion, so he chose to think about something else. About how when they got back to Hogwarts they might finally know who the Heir of Slytherin was. That made him feel a little more at ease.

"Ready?" Harry looked up from the grooves of the stone floor as Ron made his way down the wide steps and toward him, his heavy old, battered trunk wheeling along behind him. Poor Ron hadn't been able to stomach any breakfast that morning, in fact he looked a little pale-and sweatier than usual. Was their punishment really going to be _that_ bad? Or was Ron just being dramatic?

"Yeah. I really think you should have tried to eat something though." Harry answered, picking up Hedwig's cage and wincing when she all but screamed at him for disturbing her slumber, "Sorry Hed."

"I guess I'll get something on the train." Ron answered with a small, lazy shrug, following Harry out onto the grounds where a group of excited second year students were stood, waiting for Hagrid to take them all down to the station. Harry and Ron walked in silence, mostly because they couldn't think of anything to say to one another, their trunks wheeling along behind them over the gravel and frost covered grass.

"All righ' second years, follow me!" Hagrid seemed to appear out of nowhere, waving his big, tree trunk arm and leading the way down through the grounds and to the station. Ron and Harry had to fall into a sort of jog to keep up with the crowd once they started moving, and were breathless when they got down to the platform and saw the familiar copper coloured magnificent steam train. Hagrid made his way over to Ron and Harry as their animals were taken from them by the conductor (who had to jut his hips to one side to avoid being bitten on the bottom by the Snowy owl through the bars of her cage).

"Sorry…she's in a bit of a bad mood this morning." Harry said sheepishly, shooting a look of warning to his owl as she was taken away.

"Probably jus' hates the hustle an bustle." Hagrid chuckled as he loomed over both young lion cubs, with his nose and cheeks cherry red from the cold and his large maroon coloured coat, Harry couldn't help thinking he looked like a sort of bushy haired Santa clause. "All righ there 'Arry?" he asked, clapping the boy on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "Headin' 'ome for Christmas?"

"Sort of Hagrid, I'm going to Ron's." Harry answered.

Hagrid's smile only widened. "Yer a lucky lad 'Arry. 'Ave a good 'oliday you two." he said, giving Ron a clap on the shoulder as well (which almost caused the young Weasley's knees to buckle under the weight).

"Thanks Hagrid,"

"You too." Harry and Ron answered, heading onto the train and settling themselves into an empty compartment. With some students choosing to stay at school for the Christmas Holidays, the Hogwarts express wasn't nearly as full as it usually was. The boys seated themselves opposite one another and stared out of the window as it began to lightly snow.

"Dad's gonna meet us at the station. Got his owl this morning." Ron mumbled after what seemed like hours of silence. The boy fidgeted in his seat and crossed his arms over his stomach. Harry thought he was thinking about this way too much. Ron didn't really _know_ what a belting from Arthur would be like, he only knew a few things from what he had been told by Charlie and Bill. Of course, it hadn't helped when Fred and George gave their own renditions about it being the 'worst pain we've ever felt' and 'You won't sit down for a whole year.' Gits.

"Your mum too?" Harry asked hopefully. Maybe Arthur would be less inclined to shout himself hoarse at the two of them the second they set foot onto the station if Molly was there.

"No-"

Well, that was that idea down the drain.

"-she's going to Diagon Alley to get some stuff for Christmas. Dad says she's really excited about having you over-wants to get all new decorations and stuff."

Harry felt his heart melting. Mrs Weasley was too good to him, she really was. The boys went back to sitting in silence, even as the train began pulling out of the station and started to pick up speed. Harry watched Ron as the red-headed boy stared out of the window, a million and one thoughts seemed to be running through his mind. Harry glanced back at the closed doors of the compartment, and considering they had some privacy, he decided to ask a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"So, getting smacked…I mean, what should I expect?"

He sort of wished he hadn't. Ron's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as he looked at Harry, and his fidgeting got worse. Obviously this was a bit of an embarrassing subject but Harry was too curious to just wait for it to happen when they got to the burrow. "Well…it hurts."

"Thanks Ron, I could have figured that one out for myself, actually." Harry groaned.

"And it's uh…well y'know. It's embarrassing, especially when…when Dad pulls your pants down." Ron struggled to say.

"Bare, really?" Harry couldn't help sounding shocked. He would have thought the Weasley kids were too old to get their bare bottoms smacked. Apparently not.

Ron's cheeks burned even redder and he cleared his throat. "Well…well Dad says that a smacking should be on someone's bottom…not someone's trousers." he explained, now avoiding Harry's eye. He really, really didn't want to talk about this but he doubted his best mate was going to drop the conversation because-well he would want to know what he could expect and prepare himself for it.

"I guess that makes sense." Harry frowned.

"He also says it's cause he wants to make sure he can see the …colour." Ron almost choked on the word.

"Colour?" this was getting very confusing for poor Harry.

"Well…when you get smacked…your bum sort of changes colour." Ron answered, "Goes from white…to pink…to red. Dad never gives us more than…y'know…red."

"You really aren't the best at explaining things, y'know that?" Harry sighed, sitting himself back against the seats.

"Well bloody hell Harry, it's not an easy thing to talk about you know!" Ron snapped, putting his face in his hands and groaning. "Can we _please_ talk about something else?!"

Unable to hide a small smirk at his friend's discomfort, Harry nodded his head and the two got into a rather long, deep conversation about who was the better Quidditch team. The Chudley Cannons (Ron's team) or Puddlemere United (Harry's team). It wasn't a heated conversation, though there were some pouts and scowls here and there, as you could expect from two boys talking about opposing sports teams.

"And Galvin Gudgeon is possibly the best seeker in the world because-"

"-Hey look, we're here." Harry cut across as Ron started gushing over the Cannon's seeker. The boys pressed their faces up against the window, seeing King's cross station, more specifically, platform nine and three quarters coming into view from the corner of their eyes.

"Great." Ron mumbled, stuffing some liquorice wands and chocolate frogs (that the boys had both purchased from the trolley about an hour ago) into his pockets. "Can you see my Dad?" he asked, settling back into the seat as Harry kept his face glued to the cold, frosted window. Every now and again he had to wipe it clean with his sleeve as it fogged over due to his heavy breathing. His heart was starting to hammer against his rib cage now that they were so close to seeing Arthur Weasley.

"Not yet." The boy answered, pulling himself away from the window and waiting with trepidation as the train slowed to a stop. Neither spoke a word but exchanged nervous glances as they stood and started making their way off of the train, legs feeling like jelly and feet feeling as heavy as lead. Harry followed behind Ron as they stepped onto the station, both boys looking around for either Arthur or one of Ron's brothers (or sister).

"Ron, Harry!"

The boy froze and turned on his heel, whimpering when he saw Arthur jogging toward them. The man was dressed smartly in a navy suit, burgundy sweater vest and white shirt, not his usual bright emerald travelling cloak. His face was a bit pink from the jogging, and his blue eyes were ever kind, twinkling with delight as he approached his son and their little house guest. Without a word, Arthur pulled Ron into a hug and ruffled his hair affectionately, before doing the same to Harry.

It took him by surprise but warmed him all the same.

"Good to see the both of you, how was the journey?" Arthur asked gently. Harry frowned a little. The man didn't seem even a little bit angry with them. At least, not the same anger he was used to seeing on Vernon's face, (which was usually purple with rage, his eyes bulging from their sockets).

"Good, uh..sir." Harry answered a little woodenly.

Arthur gave them both a little smile, knowing _exactly_ why they were a bit nervous and quiet. They would talk about that when they got back to the Burrow though. It didn't take long for each of Arthur's Weasel kits to congregate, and he gave each of them a rather large hug and implored them to tell him how their term at school had been while they collected their things. Arthur and Percy got into a very deep conversation about the attacks on muggle-borns, not leaving out the part about the whole school thinking Harry was the heir of Slytherin (which got a snort of disbelief from the Weasley Patriarch).

Both Harry and Ron took the opportunity to fall back with their trunks, moving at a slower pace.

"I thought your Dad would be mad…" Harry whispered, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"He probably is." Ron whispered back. "Dad's not usually one for public scenes. He'll wait til we get home to lecture us." Arthur Weasley wasn't really the shouting type, at least not when enough time had passed for him to calm down and think about things from a controlled point of view. He could lose his temper, he could get angry (he was human after all) but he would never, ever punish his kits in that anger-and to this day he never has.

"Father, how are we going to get home without the car?" Percy asked as they got through the barrier one by one and began leaving the station, trying to appear as Muggle-ish as possible with their large trunks and cages of rats and owls. They did get some odd looks.

Ron felt his ears burn with shame as Percy glanced back over his shoulder at him, giving him a disapproving look. Well, he knew it was going to be brought up sooner or later. Harry winced too, glaring at the back of Percy's perfect little head when he turned away from them.

"I've had to borrow a car from the ministry for a while." Arthur answered carefully. "It's not as practical as a flying car of course, but it'll get us from A to D as the muggles would say." he smiled.

Harry had a feeling Arthur meant 'A to B' since he sometimes got mixed up with certain muggle words. He didn't have the heart (or the courage in that moment) to correct him though. Soon enough, all their trunks and cages and the likes were compacted into the charmed boot of the black, sleek car, and all the Weasley children (plus Harry) clambered into the back seat. Though it looked like a normal company car from the outside, the inside had been charmed to be much bigger. Six people could sit comfortably on one long seat without bumping up against each other (though Fred and George still tried to kick Percy's ankles now and again as Arthur drove).

"Enjoy sitting while you can, ickle Ronniekins." Fred whispered cruelly, a mean smirk on his face.

"We noticed Dad's wearing his most _painful_ leather belt today." George added quietly, pretending to look sympathetic.

"Poor lambs." they both chimed together, giving the allusion that they felt sorry for both Gryffindor boys.

Harry and Ron thought it would be wise to ignore the twins and not rise to the bait. They sat in silence, listening as Ginny rambled on about how her first term at Hogwarts had been so far to Mr Weasley, who nodded and said 'Ahh' and 'Mhmm' in all the right places. For Harry and Ron, the ride from the station to Ottery St. Catchpole hadn't taken as long as they would have liked. Before they knew it, Arthur was pulling up on the dirt road just a footpath away from the ever growing Burrow. Fred, George, Percy and Ginny clambered out immediately, hurrying to get their things.

Arthur noticed Harry and Ron weren't keen on moving and he looked back at both boys through the rear view mirror. "Boys." he said, clearing his throat and continuing when he had their attention. "I want you to go up to your room, Ron. Harry, you as well. Both of you sit down on the bed and wait for me, all right?"

Harry heard Ron whimper a bit and he nodded, "Y-Yes Mr Weasley.

"Yes Dad…" Ron whined.

This was it. The moment they had both been dreading. In less than an hour they would both be sporting very red, very sore bottoms.


	2. Chapter 2 Smacking the kit

Arthur watched both young Gryffindors slowly exit the car and his heart ached seeing the look of pure misery on their faces, particularly Ron's. Having to dole out the discipline was definitely the _worst_ part about being a parent. The man stayed seated in the car for a moment, watching Harry and Ron as they wheeled their trunks up the dusty foot path, past the pig pen and into the Burrow itself. He needed a moment. He needed to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Arthur Weasley sat there and thought back to that particular morning, remembering how _frightened_ he and Molly had been the day they'd gone back through the barrier - only to find Harry and Ron had disappeared. They'd not followed them through, they'd not waited for them on the other side, either. In a blind panic, both Weasley parents had rushed to the car outside the station, expecting to find their son and his friend stood by the ford Anglia, giving them some excuse as to why neither of them had crossed through the barrier.

They were not. Not only were the children gone, but the bloody car too!

 _"Didn't Harry and Ron come through?" a look of confusion crossed Mrs Weasley's features as she glanced around the emptying Platform nine and three quarters, the train had just began to pull out of the station._

 _"Well of course they did, where else would they be?" Though Mr Weasley did not look too sure. His heart rate began increasing as his blue eyes quickly scanned each passing window. Ron usually leaned out with his brothers to give them a reluctant wave (for Molly's sake really) and Fred and George were currently half way out the window, Percy beside them, and Ginny below them, all waving excitedly. Where was Ron? Where was Harry?_

 _"Arthur dear, you don't think…?" Molly cast an anxious glance over her shoulder and to the barrier. Had they not come through? "What on earth are those boys doing?"_

 _"I'm not sure dear, but I intend to find out." Arthur answered quickly. They stayed a moment more, waving and blowing kisses to their children before the Hogwarts Express pulled completely out of the station and out of sight. "Right, let's go." Arthur frowned, making his way back through the brick barrier (with his small wife following quickly behind) and back to the busy, bustling King's Cross station platform. "Harry? Ron?" He glanced around, half expecting to see both boys standing on the wrong platform completely. Perhaps one of them had rushed to the loo and gotten lost on the way back, and the other had gone to find him? It was a possibility._

 _"Ronald?!" Molly cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice, her brown eyes widening and watering as each second passed where she did not see her son, or their summer guest. "Harry?!" The short, plump woman scanned each group of muggle children's faces quickly, the anxiety growing in her strained voice as she continued to call for the boys. "Oh Arthur, where could they be?!" she asked, throwing her hands up in despair, close to tears._

 _"Settle down, love." Arthur was quick to put a hand on his Wife's shoulder and offer her a calm smile. "Maybe they're waiting by the car?" After all, where else could they have gone?_

 _"The car. Yes, yes of course." Molly released a sigh of relief, her small hands shaking. She hurried after her husband as Arthur lead the way through the noisy, busy muggle crowds, along the bridge and to the car park outside._

 _Not only did they not find either of the Lion cubs, but the turquoise Ford Anglia was missing too. It didn't take very long for both Weasley parents to put two and two together (knowing Fred, George and Ron had flown the car to Surrey and back a few weeks ago). Molly was distraught, bursting into tears, and Arthur-Arthur was furious._

 _"I'm going to kill him."_

His blood had boiled with fury that morning. How _dare_ his own son steal his car and fly it without any knowledge of driving nor flying! It was more than that though. Both boys could have been _killed_. Never mind the added trouble of being seen by Muggles. Suppose the engine had died while they were both in mid air? Ron didn't know a thing about cars, how they worked, how they ran. Suppose they'd lost control of the wheel and crashed? An icy wash of dread shot down his spine at the very thought of it. Hadn't Professor McGonagall written to them and explained how both young Gryffindors were lucky to be alive after taking some serious damage from the Whomping Willow?

Not only that, but how could the man not feel an overwhelming amount of guilt? How could he not feel personally responsible for what happened? _He_ had charmed the car to fly. _He_ had been the one to show leniency toward his kids about taking the car to Surrey the other week, and obviously making it clear that there would be no consequences for doing so. Well, his leniency was certainly coming back full force to bite him in the arse, that was for sure.

It was hard to put yourself in the right frame of mind in order to punish your child, but thinking back to the icy wash of dread he felt on that cold September morning certainly helped. Arthur needed to ensure that neither lion cub thought about doing something so completely foolish and so completely dangerous again. Steeling his heart, his mind and his emotions, Arthur pushed open the ministry car door and stepped out.

 _THUD!_

The familiar slam of a car door caused Ron and Harry (who were currently sat on Ron's Cannon themed bed spread) to exchange nervous looks and fidget around a little bit. Harry was tempted to go to the window and see for himself if Arthur was making his way into the burrow at that point. However, they'd been told to sit on Ron's bed and the bespectacled boy did not feel like disobeying the man.

Their nerves settled like a ball of lead in their stomachs as they heard the burrow door open, and then heavy footsteps making their way up the old wooden stairs. The creak of the floor boards increasing, getting louder as the sound of the footsteps drew nearer. Harry looked to Ron who had turned so pale he thought he might faint! Surely it couldn't be as bad as waiting for his Uncle Vernon to come thundering up the stairs to Dudley's second bedroom in order to give him a good wallop upside the head? Harry thought. Neither boy took their eyes off of the doorknob as it turned. The wooden bedroom door opened about half way and in stepped Arthur, who appeared to be more resigned than angry.

"Thank you for doing as you're told boys." Arthur said softly, shutting the door behind him and taking out his wand. He gave the door two good taps but said nothing.

"Silencing charm." Ron leaned in and whispered to Harry when he saw the confused look on his friend's face.

Ah. Comforting.

The oh so comforting feeling only increased as both boys noticed Arthur did not put away his wand, instead he'd set it down on the night stand before turning and facing both guilt ridden cubs. His thin arms crossed over his chest and he eyed both boys carefully, letting them adjust to the situation and what was about to happen. After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Ronald. What happened?"

Ron stared down at his lap, "Well…uh we were-"

"-Eyes on me please, son."

Ron forced himself to look up at his Father, his heart practically collapsing into itself when he saw that disappointed look etched into his usually kind features.

"We were about to run through the barrier…and uh-well we smashed into it, like…it had gone all solid." Ron explained softly. He'd noticed that Arthur's brows had drawn together in a perplexed frown.

"You mean the barrier had been… sealed?" he asked calmly.

"Yeah…I guess."

"I'll certainly be letting the ministry know about that." Arthur mumbled to himself. It wasn't normal for the gateway to seal itself, and there had never been an instance of it happening before. This deeply concerned him. "-So what would have been the smart thing to do in that instance?" he asked, arching one ginger eyebrow.

"...Well, I _did_ suggest that we go and wait by the car, sir." Harry answered when Ron was silent for a little too long.

"That would have been the sensible thing to do, Harry." Arthur answered, nodding in approval. "So if you both knew it would be a good idea to go and wait by the car, why did I exit King's cross station to find my car stolen and two young Gryffindors missing?"

Ron's gaze had fallen back into his lap and he winced when he felt both Harry's and Arthur's eyes on him. _Great. Thanks for throwing me under the train Harry._ Ron thought to himself.

"Ronald?" the warning in Arthur's voice was not to be ignored and the youngest Weasley boy raised his head and looked up at his Father-who did not look pleased in the slightest. "Am I to believe this was your idea then?" he asked, not angrily but Ron could sense his displeasure.

"I uh…well…y-yeah." Ron stammered.

Disappointment crashed in waves inside the Father as he heard that. He had expected better from his son, he had raised him to know better and to behave better than he had that morning. It had been a while since the man (or Molly for that matter) had had to take the young man over their knee for a good smack. Maybe they had been to lenient with him up until this point and Ron had thought he could get away with it? Well, he was sorely mistaken.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley I am _so_ disappointed in you. Your mother and I have raised you better than to behave like that haven't we? I cannot believe you would do something so foolish and so dangerous. Do you have any idea what could have happened? Did you think for a moment how mortified we'd be if we lost you? _Either_ of you?" he eyed Harry at this point too and noticed the young man's gaze had now fallen into his lap.

"No sir…" the young man answered.

"No Dad." Ron mumbled.

"No. I didn't think so." Arthur blew out a small, frustrated breath and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Harry?"

The twelve year old looked up and into Arthur's eyes, knowing that maintaining eye contact was the respectful thing to do. "Yes sir?"

"I'm aware that you are not my child but you were in my care, and my responsibility when the two of you took off like you did. I wrote an Owl explaining the situation to your Aunt and Uncle, letting them know the severity of what you did and how you could have been killed-"

"-Believe me sir, they wouldn't have minded."

"Don't interrupt me please, Harry."

"Sorry."

"I asked their permission to deal with you as I see fit. They were a little upset that I hadn't contacted them though the…hellophone is it? And they didn't appreciate it when Errol smacked into their window and gave your poor Aunt a bit of a fright. Well, they requested I never write them again…but they did make it clear that you were _my problem_ as they put it."

"Sounds like them." Harry sighed.

"I see no reason _not_ to punish you as I would do my own children, Harry. A good smacked bottom is certainly a decent deterrent for this sort of behaviour and my children know it well, isn't that right, Ronald?"

Ron's cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment as he slowly made himself nod. Arthur nodded too, and drew a straight backed chair from the corner of the room, bringing it centre and settling himself down onto it. "Harry, have you been smacked before?"

"Well uh…not on the bottom." Harry answered.

Arthur frowned deeply, concern flashing in his kind eyes. "Excuse me?"

Harry wished he had just said no, because now he had a feeling he had opened a whole can of worms that would take hours to address. He couldn't will himself to give the man an explanation, to tell him about the times Aunt Petunia had whacked him over the back of his head with a frying pan or how Uncle Vernon had often smacked him in the mouth when he said something he didn't like. Thankfully, Arthur didn't let the silence linger for too long. The man was still incredibly concerned, and he would get to the bottom of the matter before the day was out, but right now he had a different task to accomplish.

"All right. Ronald, you first." Arthur straightened his posture and gave his knees a meaningful pat.

Ron's eyes widened and he lifted his head so fast it was a wonder the poor boy didn't give himself whiplash. "W-What?! In front of Harry? But…but Dad!"

"No buts Ronald. You both acted out together, so you'll be punished together, the same rule that applies when you get into mischief with one or more of your brothers." Arthur was quick to remind his little kit. "Come over here please. If I have to come and get you, you know it'll be worse."

Legs feeling like jelly, Ron got to his feet and walked slowly over to his Dad, whimpering and biting his lip anxiously. Arthur sighed, Ron always knew how to pull at his heartstrings. The man took his son's upper arm and pulled him a little closer, then he unclasped his trousers and tugged them down just below his upper thighs. He tried not to smile when he saw Ron was wearing the same Chudley Cannon boxers he'd bought him last Christmas and upended his child over his knee. The Weasley patriarch secured Ron in place with an arm wrapped around his middle, and rose his free hand.

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

His hard hand descended down across the thinly protected buttocks, alternating from his left cheek to his right cheek. Ron began crying out immediately which made this punishment all the more difficult for Arthur to administer, but he didn't let up.

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

"You don't _ever_ steal from me young man!-"

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

"-You don't ever put yourself in danger like you did again!-"

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

"Do I-" _SMACK!_ "-Make myself-" _SMACK!_ "-Clear, Ronald Bilius?" _SMACK!_

"Owwuhhhhh! Yes Dad!" Ron answered loudly, bucking his legs and arching his back as much as he could as the stingy fire began radiating over his thinly protected cheeks. "I'm sorryyyyyyyy!"

"Oh you certainly will be sorry when I'm through with you, young man." Arthur answered firmly, raising his hand and aiming for his upper thighs now.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

"Owww! Please Dad not there! Not there! OWWW! It hurts so bad!" Ron whimpered pleadingly.

"Well it's not meant to tickle, Ronald."

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

Arthur, without giving any warning, then tugged down his child's boxer shorts to reveal his bright pink bottom, a couple of darker hand prints were visibly fading too. The man did not plan on stopping until his child's backside was a bright red and he was sobbing - though he did hate to make his child cry. Having Ron crying was an audible cue to let Arthur know the punishment was getting through to him.

"Noooo!" Ron wailed, tears brimming in his brilliant blue eyes. "D-Daaaad!"

"Hush Ronald." Arthur chided, aiming his firm palm to the sensitive under curves of his bottom now, where he knew it would be the most painful, so he tempered the blows a little.

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

"Owwww! No more! Daaaaad! I'm sorry!" Ron howled. Oh it always hurt so much more on his bare bottom.

"You're very lucky-" _SMACK!_ "-That I didn't take you to the shed-" _SMACK!_ "-For my belt!" - _SMACK!_ Arthur made clear to his son. Unfortunately though, that didn't mean Ron wasn't going to get an implement smacking down on his little freckled bum. Arthur reached over to the night stand for his wand and he pulled something small and blue from the inner pocket of his jacket. The head Weasley gave the small object a little tap with his wand and said, "Engorgio." the small object in his hand grew about ten sizes until it formed a very formidable looking slipper with blue tartan patterning.

Harry sat frozen on the bed, watching and wincing as Arthur firmly smacked his friend's rump. He had never seen anyone get punished this way before, it was all new to him. It didn't seem as terrifying as Ron had been making it out to be all morning-but he supposed he would understand a little better when it was his turn to go over the man's knee. The thought alone caused his stomach to knot uncomfortably with dread. That slipper did not look friendly. Poor Ron.

"Nooo! No!" Ron had chosen that moment to look over his shoulder, and he'd caught sight of the familiar implement, "Not that! Noooo! Please not the slipper Daddy!"

Daddy. That would never _not_ cause his heart to break. Still, he pushed himself to continue with the punishment, knowing that if he was lenient now then his son would never learn anything, other than the fact that if he cried and pleaded enough, he would be let up.

"You're going to get twelve Ronald. One for every single year you've been alive. Maybe it will make you think about just how precious your life is to not only you, but to your family as well." Arthur explained, tapping the underside of the house shoe across the middle of his dark pink, chubby cheeks. With a sigh, Mr Weasley rose the implement just a little ways above Ron's bottom, so that the slipper would do no lasting damage, and he started the punishment.

 _WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!_

Each sharp wallop came down on either cheek, and Arthur alternated between his left and his right, turning his poor bottom a decent shade of light red. Ron's kicking and wiggling had stopped and made way for steady crying, tears rolling down his young face which increased every time he released a pained yelp. Arthur knew these yelps were genuine and not for effect this time.

"Why are you being punished, Ronald Bilius?" Arthur asked.

 _WHACK! WHACK!_ Two sharp smacks alternated his upper thighs.

"B-Because…" Ron paused to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, "C-Cause we took the c-car and-and could've d-died…"

"That's right."

 _WHACK! WHACK!_ Two more smacks to his under curves.

"Ahaaaoowowwwwww! Daddy! Daddy please!" Ron wailed, a sob catching in his throat.

"Will you do it again?"

 _WHACK! WHACK!_ The final two smacks walloped the middle of his bottom and Ron let out the loudest wail yet.

"Nooooooooo! I'm sorry! Daddyyyyyyy!"

It was done, and not a moment too soon as far as Arthur was concerned. The man set aside the slipper on the night stand and rubbed gentle circles into his son's back, sighing as he got his sobs out. It was painful to hear, very painful. After a moment, when Ron's sobs had quietened down a little, Arthur pulled his boxers up and over his sore cheeks, wincing in sympathy when the boy whimpered at the feeling of the thin fabric rubbing against his skin. Arthur then scooped Ron up and sat him on his knee (with his bottom dangling and not making contact with his legs) before bringing him into a big bear hug. He squashed Ron against his chest, a hand cradling the back of his head as the young Gryffindor continued to cry.

"It's over now Ronald. Daddy forgives you, and Daddy loves you so much." he whispered softly to the child, planting a trio of kisses to his clammy forehead. "Daddy's got you, you cry as much as you need to, Ronnie." he added, resting his chin atop the mop of fiery red hair and listening with difficulty to every sniff, every hiccup and every shuddering breath. "Good boy." Arthur used his thumbs to gently wipe away the salty tears from his child's cheeks and the lid of his eyes, smiling down at him with absolute adoration and love.

There was no doubt in Ron's mind that he _was_ very much loved by his Father, as all his siblings were.

"L-Love you too, Dad." the young man mumbled into the soft fabric of his burgundy sweater vest, the boy nuzzling his face into the depths of the wool for multiple reasons. He wanted to be closer to his Father, he found comfort in the warmth of the clothing, and he didn't want Harry to see his face, all sweaty and tear stained. Well, Harry would probably be sporting the exact same expression in a few moments.

After a little while, Arthur helped Ron to his feet and pulled up his trousers, fixing them into place for him. "All right Ron, I want you to go stand in the corner while I deal with Harry." he instructed gently.

"Aw Dad…the corner?" Ron groaned.

"Would you rather sit on the bed?" Arthur asked, arching a brow. Ron's eyes widened and he quickly shook his head, he did _not_ want to sit down so soon! The young ginger boy hurried off to the corner of his bedroom and sighed, rubbing his sore, throbbing bum and wincing when he heard his Father say,

"All right Harry. Your turn."


	3. Chapter 3 Smacking the fawn

Harry felt his stomach knot tightly as Arthur turned that patient, gentle blue gaze onto him and let him know that it was his turn now. The boy looked apprehensively over his shoulder to Ron (who was currently rubbing his tender, sore bottom in the corner) and winced. His friend's punishment had certainly looked painful, not to mention embarrassing, but it hadn't been _too_ bad all in all. With the way Fred and George had been going on, Harry had expected Mr Weasley to give them both a good forty lashes with his belt or something.

"Harry?"

The boy looked up, oh right, he should be going over there now…right? This was all new to him, he wasn't aware of the cues or what to do at this point, at least Arthur seemed to understand that. Slowly, the young man rose to his feet and swallowed a nervous lump in his throat, which prevented him from saying anything.

"It's all right lad, come on over here." Arthur encouraged gently. After all, this was Harry's first experience with being smacked on the bottom, and he didn't want to frighten the child. The head of the Weasley family looked into Harry's eyes and felt his heart twinge with pain. He was the picture of contrite which was to be expected, but he could also see the guilt swimming in those leaf-green eyes of his. Harry was beating himself up internally, he knew it. Arthur gently took Harry by the hand when he was close enough and drew him nearer before opening his mouth to speak again. "What's going on in that head of yours, hm?"

Harry found it hard to look into Arthur's eyes when there were so many emotions warring inside of him, so many thoughts racing through his head. How was he supposed to articulate any of that into words? Into a coherent explanation?

"Just uh…I dunno sir." Harry answered awkwardly.

"It's all right to be a little afraid, Harry."

"...I'm not."

"Well?"

Harry sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to organize his thoughts and feelings, it was like trying to put a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle together.

"I feel bad that uh…. I made you and Mrs Weasley mad at me.." _Oh my god, could that have sounded more childish?_ Harry cringed inwardly at his own terrible, immature explanation and brought his gentle green gaze down to his feet. _Oh hey look, that speck of dirt was new_. Had his shoes always been that shade of black? Those laces were looking a little frayed.

"We're not mad at you, Harry." Arthur interrupted the boy's thoughts, and he smiled. The man put his finger under Harry's chin and lifted it gently so that the two of them were eye-to-eye again. "A little disappointed in your lack of judgement, yes. Most of all we were just deeply worried. I would never want anything to happen to you, neither of us would. Surely you know that?"

"Uh…s-sure?" Harry didn't sound so sure actually.

"You may not be our son, Harry, but you are still important to this family. You've always been a good friend to our Ron. You've always shown such kindness and bravery. I know you have a lot on your shoulders for a boy of your age, but you're never _alone_ Harry, there are a great many people who care about you, us included. I would never be able to forgive myself if I allowed something to happen to you. Do you understand?" his tone was gentle but held a firm edge to it, which captured Harry's focus.

This was a lot for young Harry James Potter to process. He'd spent his whole life up until two years ago, trapped in a small world where everyone seemed to hate him. His Uncle, his Aunt, his cousin Dudley, the bullies at school, the uninterested and unsympathetic teachers. No one had ever really cared about him as such, no one had ever made him feel as though he was important. Not like the Weasleys had. He'd felt like part of the family that summer, and it was the happiest he'd been in a long time. Still, it was sort of hard for him to wrap his head around the idea that this family cared enough about him to put him over their knee if needed. Not to mention embarrassing to think about.

"Yes sir." Harry answered, a little more confidence in his voice this time around.

"It's perfectly natural to feel guilty about disappointing someone close to you," Arthur continued to explain, his voice ever gentle, "While a smacked bottom makes an excellent deterrent, it also helps alleviate a child or young person of the guilt they're carrying. You'll be punished, forgiven and we'll speak no more of it. In my home, if I say a slate is wiped clean then it _is_ wiped clean. The incident will not be brought to light again." he promised.

That was also difficult for Harry to wrap his head around. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had very much enjoyed bringing up things he'd done in the past just to make him feel terrible about himself. He'd grown to learn that there was no such thing as a clean slate, but the confidence in Arthur's voice and the sincerity in his cobalt gaze made the young boy want to trust him.

"Okay."

Deciding that would be enough to put some of Harry's thoughts and worries to rest, the red headed man brought Harry to stand at the side of his knees, and then helped the child lay face down, directly over them. Unlike he had with Ron, he did not take down Harry's trousers. There were two reasons for that. One, that this had not been Harry's idea, and the boy had at least had the common sense to suggest waiting by the car, and two, this was his first time receiving a thrashing, and from someone he'd only known for a few weeks. While it was important for Harry to be punished, Arthur wanted to make sure he was comfortable, or as comfortable as he could be anyway.

Despite getting to keep his trousers up and securely over his bottom, Harry couldn't help his cheeks burning red with shame and embarrassment as he found himself over his best friend's _Dad's_ lap, about to have his bottom smacked like a naughty child. He supposed that was the point though, you weren't supposed to like it or be okay with it. It was a punishment after all.

Arthur wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, tugging the boy closer to his stomach before raising his hand and delivering the punishment he needed.

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

The first two swats caught Harry by surprise and he emitted a cry of shock despite himself. It didn't hurt _too_ terribly. He could feel a slowly rising sting but he'd take this over being hurt (oh so creatively) by his Aunt and Uncle any time.

"You will not put yourself in danger, Harry James."

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

"You will not steal, or _think_ of stealing from me ever again."

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

"You will learn to think of the consequences of your actions."

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

"Do I make myself clear?"

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

Harry wriggled around in place and kicked his feet a bit as Arthur's firm, steady hand came down again and again on his left buttock and his right buttock. Even through the fabric of his trousers it was hurting. He had never experienced a dull, slowly growing pain like this before, or the sharp pain growing in his gut and heart simultaneously. He had never been lectured quite so sternly by anyone other than the Professors at Hogwarts. This was different though. Being scolded by Arthur Weasley made him feel as though he was being scolded by a parent. A parent who loved and cared for him. Well…he supposed that _was_ the case. In that moment however, it was as though Arthur was not _just_ Ron's parent, but his own.

"I said, do I-" _SMACK!_ "-Make myself-" _SMACK!_ "-Clear, Harry James?" _SMACK!_

Those smacks felt a lot sharper this time around and Harry pulled himself from his thoughts to answer Arthur, yelps and gasps of pain being drawn from him with each swat. "Ah! Yes sir!" he replied quickly. He had to remember to pay attention to what the man was saying, and not just how this was making him feel. Hot tears began to burn in his eyes as the heat rose over his bottom and Arthur's well worked palm began descending on those sensitive under curves. Okay-that was pretty painful!

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Three to each side.

"Owww!" Harry couldn't help releasing a less dignified cry of pain at that point, the boy arching his back and kicking his legs with a lot more vigour this time. "Ahhoowww! Siiirrrrr!" he whimpered pitifully. "Ahhhh!"

Arthur felt his heartstrings being more than just tugged at, they were being ripped in half at the sound of Harry's pitiful wails, but he pressed onward, knowing this was best for the boy. He needed someone to hold him accountable for his actions, someone to answer to when he put himself in such danger. After all, this wasn't the first time and (he was unfortunately sure) it certainly wouldn't be the last. Harry needed to remember that he was just a child and that there were people in his life who would be devastated should anything happen to him. He and Molly included.

"Why are you being punished, Harry James?"

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

The smacks now proceeded to fall firmly against the young man's upper thighs where the skin was quite sensitive. Arthur knew he wasn't giving the boy more than he could handle though, and he waited for the child's answer.

"B-Because we took the car and …and we put ourselves in danger!" Harry gasped through the pain of the smacks, tears dripping from his eyes and rolling down his flushed cheeks now. He felt so childish for crying when the smacks were just over his trousers, but they hurt! Each smack just ignited the sting over and over again and it was beginning to burn a little now.

"That's right young man."

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Arthur brought his hand back to the seat of the crying child's bottom and willed himself to continue despite the ever kicking feet, the wiggling and the arching back. He would have _never_ demanded or expected Harry to just lay there still and unmoving. It was a natural response to the pain, and as long as Harry didn't buck himself or wriggle himself off of his lap, then he was fine with it.

"Owwww Mr Weaaasssllleeeyyyyy!" Harry howled, unable to stop himself from throwing a hand back to try and protect his stinging, throbbing bum. Arthur was quick though, and he'd seen it coming. He caught the hand and gently pinned it in place to the small of his back.

"No Harry, you don't throw your hand back." he gently scolded. Of course the boy probably knew it had not been the right thing to do, but as this was his first time being smacked, Arthur decided not to give him a penalty swat (which he certainly would have done if any of his own children had thrown their hands back, they knew better). His hand moved to the sensitive under curves again and he heard a sob catch in Harry's throat. They were almost there. "Will you do this again, Harry?"

"Noooooo!" Harry answered, his voice breaking as tears now cascaded down his cheeks, "I'm sorryyyyy!"

Arthur had thought briefly about applying twelve with the slipper across the lad's bum to ensure he really thought about the importance of his life, but seeing the boy so upset and already sobbing, he decided against it.

"Good."

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

Mr Weasley delivered two more smacks to the centre of Harry's bottom and then stopped, his palm stung a bit but he was sure it was nothing compared to the pain both young Lion cubs felt on their tail ends.

"All right Harry, we're done. It's over." Arthur cooed down at the sobbing child before lifting him gently and pulling him against his chest into a warm, comforting hug. As expected, Harry latched onto his clothing like a life line, hiding his sobbing face in the deep wool of his sweater vest. Poor lad. The man cradled the lad's head close and carded pink fingers through his mop of shaggy dark hair. He had a feeling this was the first time in a long time that Harry had been held so securely, because the lad pretty much had a break down right there against his chest, holding onto the lapel of his navy jacket so tightly his knuckles shone white. "It's okay, shhh, I know." he whispered against the side of his head, rocking the twelve year old back and forth in his arms in an attempt to soothe him.

"I'm s-sorry M-Mr Weasley!" Harry stammered against the man, his limbs quivering and sobs racking through his skinny frame. Arthur had a strong feeling the boy wasn't only crying from the pain of his sore bottom. No. This ran much deeper.

"I know you're sorry Harry. It's over now, and you're forgiven. We'll speak no more of this, I promise."

While it took only two minutes or so to calm Ron down, Harry was still steadily crying even after four minutes had passed. Arthur didn't hurry him or mention it though, he just continued to comfort Harry as much as he could, his heart breaking for the boy. Something was going on with Harry that ran deeper than this punishment, that even ran deeper than the term at Hogwarts, with everyone thinking he was the heir of Slytherin. Harry had told him he had been smacked before, but not on the bottom, and Arthur intended to find out everything but without pushing the boy too much for information.

"Ron?"

Ron turned from his position in the corner, his heart aching for his friend. "Yeah Dad?"

"Your mum wants the Garden de-Gnomed by the time she gets back. Round up Fred and George and make a start on it please." Arthur instructed his child.

"Aw but Dad…" Ron whined.

"Ronald."

Again, the warning in Arthur's voice was clear enough, and Ron knew when to shut his mouth and just do as he was told. He grumbled as he left the corner and exited the bedroom, shutting the door behind him as he went. Thankfully, Harry had calmed down to sniffs and hiccups at that point and Arthur felt now would be a good opportunity to talk to him about what was _really_ bothering him.

"All right now Harry?" Arthur asked softly.

"Y-Yeah.." Harry sniffed, wiping the last of his tears from behind his glasses with the back of his hand. "C-Can I…get up?" he didn't want to, but he felt so childish and pathetic laid there in Arthur's arms.

Arthur smiled and released his hold on the child. "Of course." he helped Harry to his feet and hid a small smile as the boy's hands went directly to his bottom to try and rub away at the sting. "Harry, I wonder if I might have a word?" he asked after a moment of watching the boy gather his bearings.

Harry cleared his throat to try and level his voice and he nodded. "Y-Yes sir?"

Arthur held Harry in front of him, he would have had the boy sit down on the bed, but he assumed the possibility of sitting down so soon was the last thing Harry wanted to think about. He didn't blame him. Oh he had been in Harry's very position more than once in his own youth.

"Before…well, before all of this, you divulged something that was quite concerning, despite wanting to or not." Arthur began. "You told me that you had been hit before, but not on the bottom." he recalled and winced when Harry's cheeks burned with realization. "I'm not going to force you to open up to me Harry, I never would." he made very clear, "But if there's something happening, perhaps at school, perhaps at home with your Aunt and Uncle, well, I'd like you to feel as though you could come and talk to me about it." he leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking with Harry's.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Harry?"


	4. Chapter 4 Fixing things

Authors notes:

Thank you so much for giving the story a favourite and a follow!

Feel free to leave a review since I _am_ new to this and I'd appreciate some feedback!

I plan to write a lot more HP fanfiction, so don't worry this may be the end of this story but not of me :)

...

 _"Is there something you want to tell me, Harry?"_

Harry's shoes had once again become rather interesting as his gaze fell from Arthur's face. He knew this was going to be brought up the second he told Arthur that he was not smacked on the bottom, he knew he had opened up a can of worms and even if he chose to say nothing, this wouldn't be the end of it. Harry was touched that Arthur held so much concern for him (even after the boy had shamelessly stolen his car and had given him cause to smack his bottom), but he didn't think it was fair to burden the man with his life's story and tell him about the awful neglect and abuse that he suffered from his supposed family. He figured he had been enough trouble already with his antics not only this term but last year as well. If it hadn't been for him, Ron wouldn't have ended up in the Hospital Wing at the end of the year for sacrificing his safety in a life sized game of Wizard's chess.

That wouldn't have happened if he and Ron had never become friends. Harry had somehow inserted himself into the Weasleys lives and made everything more troublesome for them. After all he was quite sure that the House elf who showed up in his bedroom had something to do with the gateway sealing itself, they wouldn't have had to take the car if something hadn't stopped them (particularly him) from getting through the barrier at King's Cross station. Trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went, whether he tempted it or not. Still, what if this was his chance? His chance to finally escape such abusive, toxic people and be with someone who loved him and cared for him? What if Arthur Weasley could fix _everything_ right now? Right here? What if he never had to go back to Number 4 Privet Drive? A spark of hope ignited within his heart and the boy worked up enough courage to say what had been shut away in silence his whole life.

He poured his heart out to Arthur Weasley that December afternoon. Explaining _everything_ from being fed scraps at meal times, from being starved whenever there was an incident with accidental magic that, at the time, Harry couldn't explain. He told Arthur about how he'd been shut in a cupboard under the stairs up until last year when he'd come home from Hogwarts and had been given Dudley's second bedroom filled with broken and unwanted toys. He told him about all the bullying he'd suffered at the hands of his dunderhead cousin, and the verbal and emotional abuse from his Aunt and Uncle. He told him _everything._

With every word, Arthur Weasley felt the anger bubbling under his skin. How could Dumbledore, the greatest man he'd ever known, have left Harry with such…such atrocious people?! Arthur had always held such a high opinion of Muggles, but even that couldn't stop him from hating Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley. This poor boy had been put through so much, all of which he had not deserved. James and Lily would be tossing and turning in their graves if they knew…perhaps they did. Still, he had to swallow down all his frustration and anger at the situation and keep calm, for Harry's sake. He let the boy finish speaking and he nodded after a processing every word in his brain. He had to do something about this, how could he not? There was no way he would allow Harry to go back to such an abusive home life, even if he had to hide him at the Burrow in his (Muggle item filled) shed or in the attic with the Ghoul.

"Oh Harry…" the man drew the child to his chest once more, resting his chin atop the boy's head. "You don't have to worry about a thing any more, I'll fix this." he promised the child. How he was going to do that, he wasn't sure. He planned on sending an Owl to professor Dumbledore immediately, he had to believe that the man hadn't known about the cruel mistreatment of this child. Dumbledore would never knowingly leave Harry with abusive family members…would he? Arthur carded his fingers through the boy's dark hair and sighed, letting Harry flop against him in silence.

 _"Ow! Bloody hell Fred, that hurt!"_

 _"Well if you moved your fat arse, I wouldn't have hit you would I?"_

 _"Maybe we should toss you over the garden wall next, Ronniekins?"_

 _"Shut up George! Don't call me that!"_

Arthur sighed. The job of a father was never done. "Well, I'd better go and break up world war three." he said, getting to his feet and giving Harry's shaggy mop of hair an affectionate tousle. The man then strode to the window, pulled it open and stuck his head out, just in time to see Fred and George trying to grab Ron by his ankles. "BOYS!" He thundered down at them. "I told you to de-gnome the garden _not_ de-moralize one another!" he scolded, wagging a finger at all three of them (who at least had the good graces to look contrite). "That garden had better be empty by the time your Mum gets home or else there will be no pudding for the lot of you!"

"What did _I_ do?!" Ron whined in protest.

"I heard you swearing Ronald. Had your Mum been home she would have cast a scourgify charm for that filthy mouth. You too, Fred." Arthur responded, causing Ron's ears to flame red and Fred to scowl just a little. Arthur then stood back and shut the window with a thud.

"Scourgify?" Harry asked curiously as he was half way out the door.

"Ah. A cleaning charm, usually used to wash pots, clean surfaces…and scrub away swear words from a naughty child's tongue." Arthur winked, picking up his wand from the night stand and tucking it into his inner jacket pocket.

Harry nodded in understanding, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. He'd have loved to see the usually foul mouthed Fred and George with a mouthful of suds.

 _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_

"What _is_ for pudding this evening anyway?" George asked, grabbing a pesky gnome by the ankles and whirling it over his head. "I hope it's _worth_ not throwing Ron over." he smirked at their little brother.

"Shut up George."

"Very articulate today aren't we, Ronald?"

"I think Mum said she was making pumpkin pie." Fred shrugged.

"As long as Dad doesn't try to bake again, I'm happy."

"Ah the 'Cauldron cake incident'." Fred grinned, a reminiscent gleam in his eyes.

"Poor Dad was cleaning egg off of the kitchen walls for a week." George recalled. "Dunno why he didn't just buy the ready made ones from Honeydukes."

"Leave it to Dad to do things the hard way." Fred shrugged. "He even insisted on cleaning up without magic. He's too fascinated by the old boring Muggle ways."

"Blimey, is that the last of them?" Ron interrupted his brothers, hurling the last dizzy gnome over the garden wall and reaching down to rub his ankles (where he'd been bitten multiple times by the garden intruders).

"I reckon so. Can't see any more of the little buggars."

"Good." Ron sighed, wiping the sweat from his clammy forehead and sighing. He absolutely hated de-gnoming the garden, it was possibly the worst chore he and his brothers (and Ginny) had to do. He'd rather peel potatoes or dust and sweep or whatever. Something much less physical.

"Boys! Come give me a hand, would you?!" All three heads turned in the direction of the open back door. "Ginny dear?! Anyone?!"

"Mum's home."

Fred, George and Ron hurried inside in time to see Molly Weasley making her way into the kitchen, large bags bundled under her arms, her face bright pink and glistening with sweat. She set the bags down none too gently on the table and her hands went immediately to her back.

"I don't know, a house filled with six strapping young men and _I'm_ the one carrying the bags inside!" she sighed angrily.

"Sorry Mum, we didn't hear you coming up the path." George answered sheepishly, making his way over and giving the short, plump woman a hug.

"Blimey, was there a sale or something?" Fred asked, pulling at one of the many bags sprawled out on the table to try and get a good look inside.

"Just a few extra things for Christmas and…No! Don't go looking in there!" Molly quickly smacked Fred's hand away from the biggest bag. "Honestly!" the woman's stern expression softened though and she brought Fred and Ron into a hug, pleased to see them home for the Christmas Holidays. "Oh it's good to have you home, boys. Where's Percy?"

"How should we know?" Fred groaned, rubbing vigorously at his recently kissed cheek, trying to wipe away the lipstick. "Probably up in his room doing something positively perfect, as per usual."

"You could learn a thing or two from Percy, Fred. And you George." Molly scolded wagging her finger at both identical boys.

George looked affronted, "Hey, I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking the same though." Fred grinned.

"Ah brother, you know me well." George laughed. "I suppose I should have remembered that Mum can read minds now." he added, rolling his eyes.

"And where is your sister?" Molly asked, ignoring the both of them and looking around the kitchen for a moment.

"Blimey we're not your kids' keepers, Mum." Fred muttered.

"And your Father?"

"We're not your husband's keepers either." George mumbled.

"Is Harry here?"

"Oh he's getting his bum smacked." Fred smirked. "Just like ickle Ronniekins did."

Ron's face instantly coloured up and he fought back the urge not to kick his brother in the shin. He really was being a git today. George too, actually.

"Well unless you want _your_ bum smacked, Fred." Molly scolded, giving the teen's bottom a sharp swat. "I suggest you don't make fun of your brother. You're not too big to go over your Father's knee you know, or mine for that matter!" she then glanced at Ron and sighed, she too had been upset about the incident with the car, but considering Arthur had likely made their disapproval very clear to the young boy (and his friend), she decided to let her anger go.

"Hello dear." Arthur smiled as he and Harry got to the bottom of the creaky staircase. He brought his wife into his arms and kissed her lovingly, despite the overly dramatic gagging and groaning coming from their boys (if anything it just lengthened their kiss). "Oh, you should have given one of us a shout," Arthur frowned, looking at the bags along the table. "We would have come and given you a hand."

"I did, none of you heard me _apparently_." Molly sighed, "Never mind." she gave her husband a kiss on his cheek when he gave her a rather sheepish look and then her face practically shone when she saw Harry. "Oh Harry dear!" she brought him into a huge hug and rubbed his back. "Oh it's good to see you!"

Harry blushed pink and returned the woman's hug, smiling despite himself. "You too, Mrs Weasley." he answered, fidgeting a bit when the hug lasted just a little too long for his liking. Not that he didn't enjoy it, but with Fred, George and Ron as his audience, he felt sort of awkward.

"Molly dear…I need to talk to you." Arthur said after a moment and locked eyes with Harry. This couldn't wait, he was going to have to talk to his wife about everything Harry had told him and decide together how they were going to handle this situation. Molly seemed to understand the solemnity in her husband's voice, and the concern he held in his usually gentle gaze, and nodded.

"Of course, love." she agreed before turning to Fred and George. "If _either_ of you look in those bags you wont sit for a week." she warned them and Arthur hid a chuckle.

"Really, what do you take us for, Mum?" Fred gasped, hand to his chest, the picture of insulted.

"A couple of no good peeping toms?" George added, aghast.

"Boys." Arthur warned. "Mind your Mother."

"Yes Dad…" the twins groaned in unison.

"Wonder what's so important." Ron muttered to Harry as he watched his parents ascend the staircase and no doubt go to their room for some privacy.

"Dunno…" Harry answered, though he did. He knew _exactly_ why Mr and Mrs Weasley had gone upstairs to talk in private. His stomach knotted again as he thought about being the centre of the conversation. Part of him wished he hadn't said anything to Arthur, while the other part of him willed them to be able to do something about his abusive situation.

 _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_

Fred and George had taken Molly's warning seriously, and decided to leave the bags alone in favour of going upstairs to bother their brother, Percy. Ron and Harry had made their way into the living room, both laid on their stomachs and engrossed in a game of exploding snap.

"Sorry about…y'know, all that." Ron said after a moment. He had a feeling Harry would understand what he meant, "You doing okay?"

Harry's cheeks heated up a little at the question and he cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "It's all right…and y-yeah…you?"

"Yeah.." Ron looked just as embarrassed as Harry, especially since his best mate had seen his Father smacking his bare bottom. The thought alone made him inwardly cringe.

 _—_ _THOSE BLOODY MUGGLES!_

Harry and Ron both looked up from their game to the ceiling as they heard Molly's scream of anger. Ron swore his mother had made the walls of the burrow shake with the ferocity in her voice.

"Bloody hell…Mum hardly ever swears." he muttered.

 _—_ _HE'S JUST A BOY!_

The boys couldn't really make out what was being said, just a whole lot of screaming and the odd few sentences from Mrs Weasley, most of it being profanity because her inner mother Lion had been brought out. She was fiercely protective of her Lion cubs, Harry being one of them. Ron's ears turned pink as he heard a few choice swear words leave her mouth, ones that he knew for a fact would have gotten his own mouth washed out and his bottom smacked simultaneously.

 _—_ _IF DUMBLEDORE KNEW ABOUT THIS!_

"Dumbledore? What the bloody hell are they talking about?" Ron asked, his eyebrows drawing into a frown, his focus had left their game completely now.

Harry felt a little bad. How could he not? Mrs Weasley was obviously quite upset and he knew it was all because he had opened his mouth and said something. Both boys jumped when they heard a loud bang and Arthur's voice booming above Molly's for a change. The man had likely slammed his fist down on their night stand in rage.

 _—_ _FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE MOLLY, KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!_

 _—_ _THEY'RE NOT HAVING HIM BACK! HE'S STAYING HERE!_

Molly's voice had obviously not lowered in volume after that, but then, there was silence. Harry and Ron could no longer hear anything, heck, _half of London_ could no longer hear anything! The boys exchanged confused expressions and then looked to the staircase when they heard a set of footsteps, just one. Arthur had come down them a moment later, his face pink and tired but he was wearing his usual kind smile.

"Harry, do you mind coming upstairs for a moment?" the man asked softly.

"Uh…s-sure Mr Weasley." Harry got to his feet and walked over to the man, throwing a glance back over his shoulder at Ron who looked absolutely horrified. Was Harry in some sort of trouble? Was his best mate going to get smacked again? Harry knew better though, and he followed in silence behind Mr Weasley as he lead him up the stairs, along the hall and to their room.

It smelled pleasant inside, like a mixture of Molly's usual cheap perfume and Arthur's muggle cologne (old spice). It was reasonable in size, being the master bedroom it was the largest bedroom in the house. The walls were cream coloured and adorned with moving pictures of their children laughing, making faces, and being the rowdy Weasley bunch that they were. There was a light, pleasant feel to the room, plenty of natural light was pouring in from the windows and though the carpet was a sort of off-putting sea foam green colour, it still tied in nicely with the room.

"Take a seat, Harry." Arthur gestured to the bed in the middle of the room, turned down with deep, crisp white sheets and a satin sea foam throw.

Harry awkwardly lowered himself down onto the bed and half fidgeted for two reasons, one because his bum was still a little sore, and two because the bed looked too nicely made and he was too worried about wrinkling it or ruffling it. Never before had he felt like he had just too many legs. Should he cross them? Keep them apart? Fold them? How was he supposed to sit in a situation like this?

Molly wiped the last of her tears from her eyes and seated herself beside Harry, wrapping an arm around the child and bringing him to her chest, where she tightened the hug with both arms. She never wanted to let this precious boy go. Harry leaned into her comfort, not feeling so awkward about sitting on the bed now but he still squirmed a bit thanks to getting smacked less than an hour ago.

"Oh Harry, you poor boy." she sighed, the woman blinking back more tears as she pulled from the hug and cupped the boy's narrow face with both hands. "Don't you worry dear, you won't be going back to those…..Muggles." she decided to say. It would do no good for anyone for the woman to say what was _really_ on her mind.

"Harry, I'm going to send an Owl to Dumbledore and explain the situation to him. For now, until we can find you somewhere permanent to live, you'll be staying here with us, all right?" Mr Weasley asked, standing at Harry's side and putting a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Somewhere permanent my left cheek!" Molly snapped. "He's staying here Arthur, he'll have a permanent home with _us_!"

Arthur smiled gently. "Well dear, that's Harry's decision, not ours."

Harry could hardly believe his ears. He could stay here? With Ron and Ginny and the twins and Percy? He could be part of the Weasley family? He could _have_ a family? His very own loving family?! He could hardly believe it. Surely he must be dreaming?! He was speechless for a few moments as everything processed in his brain and then he blurted out,

"Of course I want to stay! I mean…I mean, yes please!"

Arthur and Molly pulled Harry into the tightest, warmest hug imaginable, holding the young Harry James Potter between them. There was still the matter of writing to Dumbledore, and getting everything sorted. There would be a long way to go before Harry was made a _'proper'_ member of the family. For now though it was a start.

The start of Harry's new life as a Weasley.


End file.
